Timeless love
by RegalAngel
Summary: What would you do if the one you loved was taken from you? What would you do if you found him again, hundreds of years later? i suck at summaries I know. Janto. rated M for later chapters ON PERMANENT HOLD. sorry
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. I don't own anything cos if I did, Ianto, Owen and Tosh would still be alive and Gwen would have never joined. Anyways this is my first story that i have gotten around typing, so please tell me what you think.**

Chapter 1

Memories

Memories are a strange thing. They can bring you happiness or pain; joy and sadness and sometimes they fade away, leaving no trace. But sometimes, just sometimes, they remain as vivid and bright as the day they happened and you find yourself reliving them constantly, just so you can feel that way again. Just so you don't forget him.

You remember the first time you saw him.

_It was winter of 1243 and you are in Cardiff, visiting your sister and her new husband. You had just entered the inn (Paradys, you remember it was called, but only much later) and the room was warm and smoky as he offered to help you with your rain sodden coat. Glancing up, you meet his eyes. _

_They were so blue; like the summer sky, and just as far away. Nodding your head, you watch him as he takes it and hangs it up close to the fire. So it might dry he says and there is a hint of amusement in his voice. He gets called away them and in the noise of pub, you don't manage to catch his name. You watch him go, staring after him until you realise a maiden at a nearby table was laughing at you._

You remember when you first learnt his name.

_You begin frequenting Paradys more often in hopes of seeing him. You become friendly with the innkeeper and when you ask about him, you are dismayed to learn that he was just filling in for a server that night; no one really knew him and his name isn't remembered. Disappointed, you down the rest of your drink and leave. It s bitterly cold outside as you begin to trudge your way back to your temporary home, a small apartment near your sister's house. Deep in thought, you don't notice the half frozen figure in the street until you almost trip over him. Blue eyes look up at up pleadingly and you instantly recognise him (those eyes have been haunting your dreams and sometime your waking ones). He isn't dressed for the weather, wearing only a thin shirt and trousers and his lips are turning blue. Unthinkingly, you extend a hand and he grabs it, his hand icy against yours. And later, when you are hand him a glass of some alcohol (scotch you think, but you aren't sure) and sit him in front of the fire, he tells you his name._

_Ianto Jones._

You remember falling for him.

_You discover that living with him is comfortable and you both quickly fall into a routine. You go to work as an alchemist's assistant and he cleans and cooks for board (you offered to cook some nights but he promptly refuses, saying something about wanting to have edible food. That made you laugh.) You don't ask about his past and he doesn't offer any explanations. You don't care about his past, you find yourself thinking, as long as he doesn't leave. As the weeks pass (they go by so quickly sometimes you think the hours have been replaced by seconds) the fascination you originally felt melts into something you can't quite identify. (You find yourself thinking about him constantly and when your sister asks who you are thinking about, you just smile and say nothing)_

_You find yourself watching at him one night as he clears away the dinner dishes and you realise that you find him beautiful. You stare at him and when he looks up and smiles at you, your insides melt. And later, when you press your lips against his cheek as he sleeps, you finally realise what the warm feeling is._

_Love._

You remember loving him.

_He looks at you strangely for several days before saying anything. You are both in the sitting room when he finally asks you._

_Why did you kiss me? He asks and you find yourself unable to think of an excuse so you just tell him the truth, even though it might push him away._

_I think I'm in love with you, you say and you can't look at him. So when he gently lifts your head and presses a tender kiss on your lips, it surprises you. He quickly pulls away and hurries out of the room blushing but several days later, when he crawls into your bed and falls asleep beside you, he doesn't pull away when you wrap your arms around him. _

_The next few weeks pass in a happy daze; gentle kisses stolen in secluded corners, exploring hands and shyness forgotten. When your sister sees you next, she takes one look at your face and asks who captured your heart. You smile and when you start describing eyes as blue as the summer sky and soft, slightly curling dark hair, but refuse to give a name, she laughs and says she'll get it out of you one day. You laugh along, knowing that if she knew, she would disown you. But you don't care._

_You're in love._

And even though you don't want too, you remember losing him.

_It begins just as a cough. He insists that he is fine, but you don't quite believe him and insist that he rest. He does so, albeit unwillingly. After a few days however, he seems to get better and you let him out of bed. You later regret that decision when you find him on the floor of the kitchen coughing up blood._

_The doctors don't know what is wrong with him, but they suspect there is something wrong with his lungs. There is nothing you can do, they say, except pray. You try that, and when that doesn't work, you turn to other methods. Herbal remedies to ease the pain, blessings of a wise woman and finally alchemy. You master tells you that it won't help, but you don't listen. You don't want to lose him._

_He steadily gets worse, coughing constantly, never eating and unable to breath properly. Eventually, he is unable to get out of bed, so you spend all your time at his side. When he is sleeping, which is often, you throw yourself into your studies. But when he wakes, he talks to you, finally telling you about his past. About his parents, how they were kind people until bandits killed them on their way home from the markets. His sister, who has three children and is pregnant with a forth. And finally, his own wife, who died in his arms after being trampled by a horse. You listen silently, cradling his head, wiping away the occasional tear as it escapes. Eventually, he runs out of stories and you both lay in silence when suddenly he speaks again. _

_I love you, he says, please don't ever forget that. And please don't forget me._

_You nod and hold him as he drifts back off to sleep, his breaths uneven and his heartbeat weak._

_He never wakes up again._

You remember living without him.

_You bury him in a country cemetery, next to his parents. There is a woman at his burial and when she looks at you with red rimmed eyes so like his, you realise that this is the sister he told you about. You share a look and she eventually turns her head away with a look of understanding before leaving, her hands unconsciously on her stomach, which is large with child. You stand there for hours, just staring at his tombstone, trying to imagine life without him. You can't._

_You try to live in your apartment. You find you cannot stay. His scent, his memory is everywhere. _

_You leave the next day._

_You wander awhile before renting a small cottage near a forest. You aren't quite sure where you are but you are certain of one thing._

_You can't live without him._

_So you throw yourself into your research of alchemy once more. They say the science is folly and you are a madman, but you don't listen. The thought of having him back in your arms drives you. You try to find the Elixir of Life, but each one is a failure, making you violently sick or doing nothing. You lose track of time; the days-weeks-months all bleed together and you think you might have gone mad. You don't care._

_Then one day, you realise something. You don't know when you last ate. You don't know when you last slept. You don't even know what month-season-year it is. You put down the vial of sickly green liquid and venture outside for the first time since you arrived. Its cold outside and your clothes aren't up to keeping you warm, but you don't really feel it as you stumble your way onto a road. A man stares at you as he passes and you quickly ask for the year. Still looking at you strangely, he tells you its 1312 before hurrying off, crossing himself rapidly. You don't notice. You are dumbstruck._

_It was impossible. There was no way that so much time had passed and you remain unchanged. Unless…_

_You stare at your hands, still smooth and unlined and realise what must have happened. The Elixir… You must have found it. Going back to the cottage, you change your clothes and pick up little bottles of crimson liquid and pick the ones you think might be the right ones. When you finish packing them up carefully, you take you need and leave. _

_You never go back there again._

_You start travelling again. You leave Wales and go to places you always dreamed of going, all the while studying the local legends and myths, looking for a way to bring him back. You realised alchemy, whilst having the means to preserve life, cannot create it, so you cannot resurrect him by using it. You go to Paris, Russia, China and more. But no matter where you go, you don't forget him. Other memories fade; your mother's maiden name, what your sister's husband looked like and what your brother looked like before he died. But yo can still recall every detail about him; the exact shade of blue his eyes were, the scent of his skin, the soft curl of his hair. Years, decades, even centuries pass but you don't forget him._

_You won't let yourself._

_Eventually, you realise that your name is becoming too well known. You don't want to be found, so you change it, but force yourself not to forget the original. You eventually have to change your name again, so you take another. The process continues over the centuries until, one day, you return to Cardiff. The city has changed; the old buildings knocked to make way for the new. All the old landmarks are gone and even the place where Paradys is now a mall. Everything you remember is gone. Except of the cemetery._

_His grave is still there, blackened and crumbling. You stand there; hands shoved deep into the pockets of your greatcoat and you let the memories assault you. And when the sun starts to set, you finally rename yourself with the name he used to murmur as you held him late at night._

_Jack Harkness_


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I'm sorry about the delay but I've been wicked busy and I've had writers block (CURSE IT!). Anyway, Here's the latest chapter and i\ll try to get the third one written as soon as possible. Cheers!**

**Disclaimer:I do not own Torchwood. If I did Ianto would so be alive.**

Chapter 2

Second Meetings.

Sunlight streamed in through the large bay windows, creating pools of light on the polished wooden floors. Bookshelves lined the walls and a large maple wood desk stood in the center of the room. Jack was sitting at the desk. Running a hand through mussed brown hair as he tried to concentrate on the book he was writing, whilst trying to ignore the ache in his chest. It didn't help that every time he tried to picture the main character, the hair kept changing form blond to dark brown and the eyes green to crystalline blue…

Throwing his pen down in frustration, he glared out the window. His deadline was in a few weeks and he was only halfway through the novel. It probably didn't help that today was the anniversary of his return to Cardiff.

Twenty-six years. That's how long he had been here, waiting. For what he still wasn't quite sure. Running a hand through mussed hair once more, Jack sat there considering. He could sit here, thinking and depressing himself, or he could go out for a walk, refresh himself and…

Before even finishing that thought, he was standing up and slipping on his coat. Running his fingers along the edge of a frame, he smiled sadly at the faded drawing contained within before heading out the door and into the afternoon sunlight.

TWTWTW

The afternoon is warm, almost hot as Jack strolled across the Plass, mind far away. He couldn't turn his mind off; thoughts and memories kept whirling around in his head, refusing to be quiet. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was blue and it made the ache in his heart intensify. He vaguely wondered if it was possible for a heart to be broken yet still beating, whole, but with a piece missing, when he turned around-

and ran straight into a petite Asian woman, who fell over, dropping several books in the process.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" she said as she got to her feet with Jack's help. She bent down to pick up her books and Jack grinned as he began to help, handing her the books when she stood straight once more.

"It was my fault" he said, and for the first time, looked her full in the face. She was pretty, with delicate features and soft looking shoulder length brown hair, but for some reason, a spark of recognition shot through him. He knew her from somewhere-

_She was screaming. Blood caked her hands as she clawed through the debris, searching for her children, screaming their names over and over until it became too horrible to hear. When she found them, her delicate features twisted in agony as she screamed a wordless wail and held their limp broken bodies close._

_Her screams still sometimes haunted his waking dreams_

- and he just realized he had been staring at her for a solid minute. There was an awkward silence for a few seconds before Jack cleared his throat.

"Uh… sorry, I have to go" he muttered and then quickly sidestepped around her leaving her bewilderedly staring at him.

A few streets away, he stopped and leaned against a streetlamp, struggling to catch his breath. He knew that what he just did was really rude, but he couldn't help it. That was the first time he had ever seen a reincarnation of someone from his past and it had taken him by surprise. Shaking his head, he knew he needed to go somewhere and think, but the thought of going back to his house didn't really appeal to him at the moment. Suddenly he grinned; he knew the perfect place. Turning abruptly, he headed for the nearest florist.

TWTWTW

Twenty minutes later, armed with wild red roses and cream colored tulips, Jack headed toward the old cemetery, with its long grass and ancient, towering trees. Nearly no one came out this way, so he allowed himself some time to lose himself in his memories. Not that there was many of his old ones left. The only cleat memories he really had were the ones he refused to let fade, the ones of Ianto, but even those where starting to get a bit blurry and frankly, that terrified his.

He was mulling over this problem, his eyes downcast, so when he reached the age-blackened tombstone, he was surprised to see someone already standing in front of it. The man had his back to Jack, so all he could see was dark hair, a black coat and dark gray suit pants. Something was oddly familiar about him and a whisper of hope formed in the bottom of Jack's heart. Then the man turned his head slightly and everything just stopped.

It was him. The curve of his jaw,the soft pink lips, the pale skin. Every detail was intimately and heart breakingly familiar and Jack couldn't quiet believe what he was seeing.

"Ianto" he breathed as flowers fell from nerveless fingers. Ianto-not-Ianto didn't appear to hear hm because a few minutes later, he turned and walked away, glancing around casually as he left. Jack stood there, staring at his retreating back and for the first time in over 700 years, he felt hope in in heart once more.

TWTWTW

"What should I do?"

Jack stared at the tombstone, not really expecting an answer. He was sitting on the ground in front of the crumbling stone, fingers playing idly with a stray petal as e contemplated what has happened. Ianto had come back to him. The question was, did he have any memories of before or if he was remotely the same. After a few moments however, Jack chuckled at himself.

"You should see me Ianto. I've waited so long for you to come back to me and now that you do, I'm sitting here asking myself questions" he said quietly, carefully runner his fingers over the stone. His smile faded as he began to speak once more.

"I still miss you, you know. Everyday I think about you and it doesn't hurt any less Why were you taken from me so soon? A year wasn't long enough. Hell, ten thousand years wouldn't be long enough. Sometimes, I wish I could sleep, just so I could dream of you..." his voice trailed off as he realized there were tears coursing down his cheeks. Quickly wiping them away, he plastered a on a watery smile.

"You don't need to hear my problems" he whispered as a stray tear ran down his face. Just then someone spoke, bringing him out of his reverie.

"Are you alright?"

The voice startled him, not only because it startled him, but because it was familiar. Glancing up he met crystalline blue eyes filled with concern. It took Jack a few seconds to find his voice.

"Uh... yeah. I'm fine" he said, scrambling to his feet. The man raised an eyebrow as he waited for Jack to finish brushing bits of grass from the back of his coat.

"Are you sure you're alright?" the man asked again and Jack nodded mutely as he shoved his hands deeps into his pants pockets. The man stared at him for a few seconds, eyebrow raised, before shrugging. He leaned down and placed a white hyacinth on the ground next to Jack's roses and tulips before he began to walk away. Jack's heart sped up at the sight.

"Wait!"

The man stopped and half turned to face him with an expectant look on his face. Jack gulped as before speaking.

"Can you please tell me your name?" he said, hoping he didn't sound too desperate. His heart fluttered in his chest as a grin suddenly broke out across the other man's face. It was the same smile and Jakc swore fell in love all over again at that moment.

"Jones, Ianto Jones. And you are?" he asked, his welsh accent making the words sound melodic.

"Jack Harkness"

'Well Jack Harkness, it was a pleasure to meet you, even if it was in an odd place." Ianto said, his grin widening slightly. He then consulted his watch and frowned slightly."Sorry, I have to go. Maybe I'll see you around?"

Jack grinned weakly and nodded at that. Ianto grinned and left, leaving a slightly dazed Jack behind him. Jack watched him go once again before sinking back down to ground and bursting into giddy laughter. He knew he must come across a strange , but right at this moment, he couldn't care less.

He had found Ianto again.

**Just for anyone who is wondering Jack is 770 years old at this point in the story.**

**Red roses- love, I love you**

**Cream tulips- i will love you forever**

**White hyacinth- I will pray for you**


End file.
